The End
by Sallie Drazzi
Summary: Most Labyrinth fics are about Romance. This is not. It is simply a short tale I have longes to tell for three days.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes:**

As a general rule, _Labyrinth fan fictions are romantic or filled with revenge. This story has neither. It is a tale about how the world is quick to judge and too lazy to find out the truth; and a tale of how even fairy tales will end. Comments and Criticisms are very welcome for this short little story._

**The End**

**Prologue:**

**            It's hard to imagine that people can be tied to each other, and yet everyone romance seems to tell us that this is true. There are thousands or stories about people who have belonged together since before they were born and people who would rather die then live without each other.**

          However no one looks at the other scale, objects that belong with people. It's said that when a mystic dies, her crystals and other tools simply fade away from existence with her, their relationship so strong that the objects must follow her to her new life.

          The Labyrinth is tied to its ruler. It has survived many years being passed down; living with its memories from the first ruler, to its current one, its magical heart having lived with more pain and joy then could ever be imagined by any mortal.

          But its current owner could imagine, and even understand, this, for as the Labyrinth shared his memories and life, he too shared its. He cares for his land, and it cares for him too. It's a relationship like every other ruler has had over this land.

          Jareth has grown stronger with every win, and the land has grown with him. Jareth has become wiser, and has gained the knowledge of his ancestors, and the land has gained and relived with him.

           They are as one, tied together in lineage and ownership, does Jareth own the Labyrinth, or does it own him? Who can say? 

All anyone knew now was that something was wrong, something was very wrong with the land and its ruler.

The Outer wall had begun to crumble.


	2. It begins

**Chapter One:**

"My Lord? My Lord?" 

The voice of the pixie echoed through the room, although Jareth did not appear to hear it. She moved closer to him, trying again, "My Lord?" She stood on her tiptoes, only just being able to see over the side of the stone throne the Labyrinth's king was sat upon. "King Jareth?"

"I am waiting," Jareth announced, his voice sounding lacking in something it had once had owned.

The small fae shuffled nervously, "Sire, I bring an urgent message."

Jareth held out his leather gloved hand, and slowly the pixie set the parchment into his palm carefully. He closed his fingers around it and drew it to him, not opening of examining it. 

The fae waited a second longer, and then realised she's been as good as excused. She bowed to the man seemingly ignoring her and left as quickly as her short legs could carry her.

As the door closed on the room, the painful constriction in Jareth's chest became unbearable, and the cough he had been holding in came out. He gave the blood a momentarily glance, but there was no more then usual. Removing the sticky gloves, he then turned his attention to the letter on his lap.

_Jareth, it has come to everyone attention that you are ill and, we are saddened to conclude, probably dying._

It was all Jareth could do to keep from laughing. Saddened to conclude he was dying. If he died he knew almost everyone in the surrounding lands would be very grateful about it. He shook his blonde head and continued reading.

_You, of course, have never fathered an heir. We feel it would be in The Labyrinth's and your best interests if you did this while you still had time. Our daughter…_

Jareth sighed and screwed the paper up into a ball. He could never rest; people were still trying to pawn off daughters, cousins, nieces into his heart. He would have thought after several hundred years everyone would have given up on the idea. However it seemed no one would let him be a confirmed bachelor.

He stood and walked across the hard room, before sitting heavily on a window ledge, thankful he didn't need to walk further. Things were getting harder and harder, he looked out across his lands. 

"Immortal my ass," He muttered to himself.

He heard the door to the room open unexpectedly, and he turned to see a tall figure in the doorway: A Female fae, with long silver hair and bright lilac eyes that were noticeable despite her being mostly in shadows. She wore a grey travelling cloak and brown riding boots.

The woman gave a warm smile, although her overall air was of worry. "King Jareth?"

"If you have another proposal of marriage, you may leave now," Jareth signed, returning his gaze to his kingdom.

The woman smiled, amused, "You're not that lucky, Your Majesty." She stepped forward, behind her followed a small bag as if it had legs of its own. She reached him and held out her hand, on her thumb was a bronze and gold ring, with a small rune moulded into it; the mark of a healer.

Jareth smiled, amused himself, "Healer, you are not needed here. I did not send for you, and no one else in my land is in need of you. You may rest your horse and then continue on to the next land."

The healer shook her head, looking like an adult scolding a small child. "I have heard many tales about the Goblin King, and I see they are all true."

"My reputation precedes me."

"You would say that," She smiled, "But not many people strive for a reputation like you." She through her cloak behind her hip, and reached for something on her belt. "A healer knows when there is pain, Sire, and I am not mistaken now, although you are trying to cloud it. It's difficult for people not to notice your Labyrinth's Outer wall is cracking."

Jareth raised an eyebrow, "The Fae King's castle is forever crumbling, and are there healers at his door?"

She produced a small disc of platinum and held it on her palm. "The King of the Fae is a bad housekeeper, not ill." She swiftly pulled her hand from under the disc and it remained suspended in the air. "It is well known to older races that the Labyrinth and its king are one." The disc glowed and suddenly ancient runes burned into it. She noted them and then picked the disc up again, showing it to him. "There, see? The disc has proven what I knew."

"Clever trick for a beginner," Jareth said, standing, and quickly leaning against the wall for support.

"A beginner?" The healer's eyes flashed. "And I suppose you wouldn't want the assistance of a beginner would you?"

"My dear, you are more astute then I gave you credit for."

The healer pulled the hair away from her neck and revealed a brown tattoo upon it. A diagonal line, with three star shaped dots along its left side and a shape like a backwards S on its right. "It's just as well I am a First Class Healer, isn't it Sire?"

"Women are always out to get me in some way."

"It's the genes." She placed the disc back on her belt. She looked at the Goblin King again. Her senses could feel his immense pain and fatigue… He would probably pass out if he stood there much longer. "Shall _we sit, My Lord?" she asked carefully, sure he wouldn't if she suggested he needed to. "I've had a long ride up here."_

He looked at her, his irregular eyes seeing right through her. "Healer, I assure you, you are wasting your time here. It would be better if you went to use your talents elsewhere."

She stared at him, infuriated that he would pass her off like that. She turned her head to the side and gestured to the bloody gloves. "That would suggest otherwise, My Lord."

Jareth gave a short laugh, "You are persistent, aren't you? I say you're not needed here."

She glared at the floor for a moment, and then her stare softened and broke into a smile. "I'll go ask a Goblin to set up a guest room for me then, shall I?"

"Healer-"

"Don't waste your needed breath, Sire, I'm not leaving." She smiled, her lilac eyes sparkling. "After all, you aren't the only stubborn person in the realm." She began to step across the tiles of the room, heading for the door. "I'll give you an examination in your quarters this evening, okay?"

Jareth smiled, it'd been a while since someone had said that, and that hadn't been a healer. "If you insist Healer, but you are wasting your time."

"Maybe I like wasting my time." The unusual floating bag hovered out behind her and the doors closed. 

Relieved he was alone and could listen to his pain again, the Goblin King sat down the window's ledge. He shook his head to himself as he took a deep breath. A healer, in the home of the Labyrinth's king? It had been a while.


	3. The Middle Bit

**Chapter Two:**

The Healer knocked politely on the doors before her. She was sure they lead to the Goblin King's rooms, mainly because she could feel his pain coming from beyond them.  It was amazing how well he had been able to hide it, but it was apparently getting too much to hide now…

The doors opened by an unnoticed hand, and she stepped into the dim room, able to see Jareth silhouetted against the window, once again looking out on his lands.

"Good evening, Sire," She said, picking up her bag and setting it on the bed. 

He affected not to hear her. She pulled out a few bottles and peered at the labels in the dim light. She looked up, it was early evening, and there was still a dim light from the window, but there were only two candles lit. "Perhaps a few more candles would be helpful?"

Jareth sighed, "I cannot cope with bright light tonight."

She paused, and then swept her hair over her shoulder. "So you are admitting there is something wrong?"

"No, I am admitting my eyesight is getting pained," She could hear the difficult smile in his voice.

She sighed; he was as stubborn as she'd heard. "I can't help you if you don't want to be helped."

"My dear, you couldn't help me even if I did," He gave a weak yet devilish smile.

She shook her head, and continued to remove bottles and vials. _Stubborn man… She thought to herself, peering at her bottles in the murky light._

Jareth turned his attention from his kingdom to the healer. She was familiar, not in his actual memories, but in his shared memories. "You are aware that healers have been banned from this castle many years?"

She paused in her work, and looked about herself quickly, as if sure a sudden curse would fall on her. "Really?"

"You didn't know?" Jareth raised an eyebrow, "And you're a first class healer?"

"Not many people care to talk about you, as I've said you have a reputation," She said, moving again.

Jareth remained as he was, sitting back against the wall on the window ledge, but his façade changed slightly, became slightly softer, less guarded. "You see, one of my early ancestors fell in love with a healer. She was silver haired too," He glanced at her as she paused. "Her name was Alendra, any relation?"

The Healer didn't answer and continued to peer at the bottles in the dim light.

"Well, as I say my ancestor was very much in love, and they were to be married, but an unfortunate event meant the wedding was cancelled."

She began pouring some liquids into a small dish, still silent, but seeming stiffer in her movements then before.

"The bride was found in the bed of another man: breaking the heart of my ancestor. She was stripped of her powers and titles and ordered out of the Labyrinth, and since then healers are no longer be welcome into this home." He cocked his head at her, "I suppose that that fact wasn't passed down your family."

She snapped her head up, fire in her eyes, "How can you be so cruel as to tell me that story just to play with my emotions?"

"And you do not think it is a painful part of my history too?"

His calm question shocked her. The Goblin King she had heard about never admitted to emotions. "I-I-"

"Since you're here, perhaps you can clean up my memories and the Labyrinth's, what exactly were your ancestor's motives that day?"

For a moment she was still stunned, almost dropping her bowl. Could this really be the cruel, irrational, woman-hating, baby-stealing fae stories were always told about? She blinked in thought, maybe people didn't know as much about him as they thought. 

He raised an eyebrow at her silence, "You don't wish to tell me?"

"No I…" She reached for another vial and began to pour its contents into the bowl in measured drops. "Alendra loved her soon to be husband, however she could never deny what she did. But the reasons she did it seem to have been forgotten by your family."

She put the bottle down, and began mixing the concoction. "The man whose bed she was found was a very high member of the Worldly Council. He lusted after Alendra and told her if she didn't do as he said, he would have her love killed. To save his life she had to do what she would never have dreamed of." 

The Healer swilled the contents of the bowl slowly as she added a platinum disc from her belt. "She was glad she was caught, because although she lost her love, she wouldn't have been able to live with what she'd done, without him knowing. She accepted her punishment and left the castle, stripped of her powers… However it was never mentioned that healers were banned from the castle at the centre of the Labyrinth because of it."

She looked across at the Goblin King, who was staring into space, looking thoughtful. He looked calm and serene, despite the incredible pain she knew he was in; she found herself inspired by his calm bravery. He turned to her and nodded. "At least we have that cleared up before it is too late. The Labyrinth would hate to die with a needless grudge."

She stood and sign, "Stop saying that. A healer doesn't like having people not believe in her abilities." She pushed her hair behind her shoulders with one hand. "Stand please."

Jareth looked momentarily pained, then he stood and walked carefully across the floor towards her.  She placed the bowl at his feet and muttered some ancient words, in a near forgotten tongue. The liquids fizzed and then a screen of pink smoke rose from the bowl, slowly surrounding the Labyrinth's Ruler.

She straightened and then held her hand before her, speaking more words softly. It appeared not to do anything, but Jareth was not skilled in the arts and sights of healing; she stared at the veil surrounding him, taking a step back in surprise. "Oh by the Nine Hells…"

Jareth shifted his position feeling weak, despite only having been on his feet a few minutes. "Yes, healer?"

She composed herself quickly, "A shadow-"

"Merely a shadow?" Jareth asked, slightly relieved although he didn't show it. If it was a shadow, then he would survive. "Then I suppose you will be removing it?"

She appeared a little flustered. "My Lord… A shadow can be removed… but this shadow…" She trailed off and looked thoughtful. "A shadow on the chest can be removed easily and although the person is in pain a few days they will survive-"

"I understand that my dear, so tell me what is abnormal about this one."

She looked at the floor and then back at him, although her vision was focused at his chest and the smoky veil before it. "The shadow is not _on your chest, or it is __in it… More specifically it is within your heart… Even if I were to remove it you would… not survive."_

The healer had not often had to tell someone they had to die, but the times she had previously she had experienced bargaining and begging. They would offer her anything to try and save them, and she was fully prepared for this now. However Jareth merely nodded in understanding, "So the time has finally come." He smiled softly, "I suspected as much."

She had never seen a man more in control of himself while in the jaws of death. She waved her hand and the veil dispelled. "Sire, I…"

"As soon as you are ready to continue on to the next land, you are free to go," He said beginning to move.

She pressed her hand against his chest stopping him. "Sire, I may not be able to save you, but as a healer I cannot let anyone suffer with the pain you feel, and will feel, with this shadow. I am going to remain here and ease your suffering all I can."

Jareth smiled, "How stubborn. You remind me of myself."

She bent and picked up her bowl, moving to the bed where she had her bag. She began to put everything back into it. "I am merely doing what is expected of a healer…"

"Then you had better come over here." Jareth smiled at her slightly puzzled expression. "If you do not help me to my bed I will probably not make it, healer."

"Oh, of course." She moved over and he moved one of his arms around her shoulder. She offered herself as a human crutch taking him to his bed, thinking to herself that although she had her duties, she was also being purly selfish staying.

All she wanted to do was find out more about this man everyone seemed to know everything about, but who in reality no one did.


	4. It always Ends

**Chapter Three:**

"Haven't they left yet?"

The healer looked up from her post beside the Goblin King's bed. It had only been little less then a week, and yet he had worsened considerably. His silver blonde hair was lank and lifeless, sticking to his face, which was slick with sweat. Although he was sweating, he was cold to the touch and was now unable to even sit up without help – and yet despite all this, his eyes and face still held a strong determination not to give in to pain.

"Your minions?" She asked. "They will not leave because they wish to remain with you. They tell me that you have always cared for them, and they will never leave you or the Labyrinth. Both of you are their protectors."

"They are idiots," Jareth sighed. He closed his eyes against a sudden sharp pain and then opened the odd orbs again, focusing instantly on the healer who was reaching for something. "Healer, your potions will not work now… I will die tonight."

She had secretly thought so herself, but hearing him word it himself distressed her. She irritably swept her hair over her shoulder, and put down the bottle she had picked up. "You may be able to hang on longer, Sire."

He gave a weak smile at her obstinate optimism. "I doubt that my dear." He gave a world weary sigh and looked away from her to a blank spot on the intricate ceiling.

"Majesty?"

"Yes?"

The Healer looked down at her hands for a moment. "Why aren't you afraid to die?"

"Everyone dies eventually," He told her, his voice although weak still sounding majestic. "As a healer, you should know that better then anyone else."

"Yes, but no one likes to die…"

There was a moment's silence. He slowly, with all the effort he could, raised his hand to run it through his lank hair. Then as he lowered it again he began to speak. "The Labyrinth and I are one. Everyone knows this, but everyone forgets to mention the Labyrinth is old. Very old, most kingdoms in this realm are defeated, taken over… but the Labyrinth has remained itself for years.

"And as I inherited my right to be its king, as well as its memories and powers, I felt it was tired of it all… It wanted it all to end. And so I decided to live my life for it, never fathering an heir, so that when that fateful day came the Labyrinth could rest at last."

She looked at him in the dim light; unable to comprehend why no one knew he was a caring and brave man. Had he kept it a secret to others? Or did no one wait for him to open up to them? She thought to the subjects waiting in the Labyrinth for the final hour; all of them scared and yet too obstinate to leave him. They knew what he was really like, she could see that having gotten to know him now… 

He turned his head to her, "You are thinking of the judging nature of people again, I can see it in your eyes." He closed his eyes briefly. "I had different opinions, so I was labelled stubborn. I refused to marry, so I became a rake. I was quiet and aloof and became a bitter recluse." He smiled to himself, opening his eyes, "Amazing really isn't it?"

She didn't answer, somehow silently urging him to speak to her more, to share what he had learnt with her. But instead he turned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They will not leave… and if they do not leave the Labyrinth now they will perish with it. They are fools."

"They are not _fools!" She exclaimed suddenly, with a rush of emotion that scared her. "They are the few people who never judged you and who never spread rumours about you! They are the few people who truly know you and love the real you! That is why they won't leave you, because they love the real you who loves them and longs for them to be safe after you are gone!" She caught a sob in her throat._

He looked at her almost sadly, "You are tired my dear, and I think it is time for you to leave before you perish yourself."

"No! I will not leave," Tears began to spill from her eyes, and she knelt beside his bed. "I will not leave because I refuse to leave a man who has been alone all his life, through other people's judgement, to die alone. I cannot leave because every part of my body says I cannot leave you alone to suffer without anyone beside you. I cannot leave because I respect you as your people down in the streets do, and I understand their love for you." 

More tears spilled down her face and she pressed his hand to her face. "I will not leave."

He looked at her, with a mixed expression in his eyes. He weakly lifted his hand and stroked her silver locks. "If you were to perish, the Labyrinth and I would not forgive ourselves. If you were to perish, who would remain to speak the truth about me? No, my dear healer, I have allowed you to be stubborn until now," He pressed his index finger on her forehead. "Now it is my turn to be stubborn. You leave now."

It was only by summoning all the strength he had that was able to transport her from the castle. She blinked and looked around the woodlands she was now in. She cradled her head in her hands and began to weep, for the life she couldn't save, and the life she had herself misjudged for so many years.


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

The sun had just filtered over the Labyrinth's crumbling walls when Jareth, the Goblin King, breathed his final breath. Although pain seared through his body he died in peace, with the knowledge that the Labyrinth would have its wish.

The Labyrinth began to fade as the sun rose higher, and the people within its walls sat sit, patiently waiting for their own time to come. The Labyrinth, which loved its people, made sure it was swift and painless for them – as if a thousand creatures simply fell asleep.

The healer, throughout the rest of her life never let anyone speak badly of the past King in her presence, and always corrected people on his life. She stove to life her life as he had, in calm contemplation and with bravery.

She must have succeeded, because when she herself passed on, the people around her commented on how at peace she was waiting for the Reaper. 

El Fini

**Author's Notes:**

Yes, it is short… it came to me late one night and I had to get up and begin it right away. I've worked three late nights on it, so I hope the spelling and grammar is all good and I hope you enjoyed it. ^_^ 

Not often you see Jareth die alone and without a lover by his side, dying with him, or even die at all, is it? I like being semi unique 

And now, once I have spelt and one the whole Christmas thing, I promise I will get on with _To Err is Human XD_

By Sallie Drazzi ^..^


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